THE PRICE OF HER LIE

CHAPTER 1: THE PERFECT WIFE Everyone in Buziga envied Daniel Musoke. Not because he was the loudest man at the bar, or because he drove the newest Land Cruiser.No.They envied him because he had managed to do what every rich man in Kampala dreams of doing but fails at- he had found peace. He was 34 years old.Self-made.He started with one small truck transporting matooke from Mbale to Nakawa market at 24.Now, at 34, he owned Musoke Logistics Ltd, a fleet of 23 trucks, a ware house in Namanve, and contracts with three major factories. But none of that was why they envied him. They envied him because of Alana. Alana Kirabo. 28 years old. Light-skinned, not from bleaching but from birth. Natural hair she kept short.A smile that even made the gateman at their mansion feel like he mattered. She didn't talk too much. She didn't post everyday on t****k like other city girls. She went to Watoto Church every Sunday, sat in the second row, and volunteered in the children's ministry. "Your wife is different," the Pastor told Daniel one day after service." Keep her." They had been married for four years. Four years of what he thought was the perfect marriage. Daniel's mother, Mama Rose, lived in a small house in Kisaasi that Daniel had built for her. She was 67, diabetic, but strong. She loved Alana like her own daughter. When Mama Rose fell very sick four months ago, with a strange stomach infection that doctors couldn't explain for two weeks, Alana did something that made the whole clan respect her. She moved into Mama Rose's small house for 18 days. She cooked for her. She washed her bedsheets when Mama vomited. She prayed for her at 3am. Mama Rose recovered and told everyone at the family meeting, "If Daniel ever leaves this girl, I will disown him." Daniel remembered that day. He had laughed. He would never leave Alana. Or so he thought. Tuesday morning. 5:30 AM. Buziga. The alarm rang. Daniel groaned. He had a trip to Mbarara. A big client who wanted to move 40 tons of cement. He had to leave early to beat the Masaka road traffic. Alana was already awake. She was in the kitchen, in her pink nightgown, making him black tea. She knew he didn't like milk in the morning when he had to drive far. "Baby, your tea," she said softly. Daniel looked at her. Her eyes were sleepy. Her hair was tied in a small satin bonnet. Without makeup, she looked even younger. " You didn't have to wake up," he said, hugging her from behind. " And let my husband got without praying? Never, " she said. They prayed. Alana prayed for him. She prayed for the journey, for the client, for his safety. Her voice was so sincere that Daniel felt his eyes watery. At 6:00 AM, the driver hooted outside. The bags were in the car. " Babe, you forgot your charger, " Alana said, running back inside to get it. She came back panting slightly. " I'll miss you," Daniel said, kissing her forehead. "I'll miss you more. Call me when you reach," she whispered. He left. The gate closed. The sound of the car faded down the hill. Alana stood at the door for exactly one minute. Watching. Then her face changed. The soft smile disappeared. Her shoulders, which were always slightly hunched in a shy, humble way, straightened. She walked back into the house, not like a sleepy wife, but like a woman who owned the place. She locked the main door from inside. At 6:47 AM, she was still in her nightgown. She sat on the large sofa in the living room, legs crossed. She picked up her phone. Not the iPhone 14 Daniel bought her- the one with the flower case. She picked up another phone. A small, black Tecno. Hidden inside the flower vase. She dialed. "Is he gone?" a male voice asked on the other side. Deep Calm. "He's gone. We have three days. Come now," she said. Her voice was different. Colder. Business- like. Are you sure he left? No turning back like last time?" "Mark, he is on his way to Mbarara. His driver confirmed. Come. We need to finish this before he comes back." She hung up. She went upstairs. She opened Daniel's wardrobe. She took out a small black safe box that Daniel though only he knew the code to. 1989- his mother's birth year. Alana typed it easily. She had known it for two years. Inside were land titles. Five of them. Company documents. And a small pistol. She took out only one document. A land title of a plot in Lubowa. 2 acres. Worth 800 million shillings. She took a picture of it and sent it on w******p. An hour later, at exactly 7:53 AM, a black Toyota Harrier, with tinted windows and a fake number plate, pulled into the compound. The gateman opened without asking. He had been paid 200k to never ask questions when that Harrier came. A man in a grey suit walked in. Clean shoes. Expensive perfume. He walked in like he owned the mansion. If Daniel had been there, he would have fainted. Because the man was Mark Musoke. Daniel's own young brother. The last-born of Mama Rose. The one who was supposed to be in Canada studying Engineering at the University of Toronto for the last two years. The one Daniel was paying $ 18000 every year in tuition and rent for. Mark wasn't in Canada. He hadn't been in Canada for 18 months. Mark closed the door. "Did you get it?" he asked Alana. Alana didn't hug him. She didn't kiss him like a lover would. She handed him the picture she had taken. " He keeps the original here. He will move it to the bank tomorrow after signing. If we don't take it now, we lose it." "You are good. You are very good," he said. "I know," Alana replied. Then Mark sat down on Daniel's favorite chair. The chair no one else was allowed to sit on. "Do you ever feel guilty?" Mark asked suddenly, looking at her. Alana laughed. A real laugh this time. Not the soft church- girl laugh. "Guilty? For who? Your brother?" "Yes." "Mark, you are asking me if I feel guilty after what you told me Daniel did to your father?" Silence fell in the room. This was the root. The secret. Seven years ago, before Daniel was rich, before he had trucks, their father, Mzee Musoke, had died. He had left behind a small piece of land in Mukono. It was not much, but it was family land. Daniel, being the eldest son, was supposed to divide it fairly. He didn't. He sold it. He took all the money, 45 million shillings, and used it as capital to buy his first two trucks. He told the family their father had debts, that there was nothing left. Mama Rose believe him. Mark was only 19 then, in Senior six. He had no power. Mark had vowed that day to get back everything. "Daniel took my future. I'm just taking it back," Mark said quietly. "And me? What am I getting?" Alana asked, crossing her arms. "40% is not enough for 4 years of pretending to love a man I don't love. 4 years of cooking for him, sleeping with him, pretending to be a good Christian wife. Do you know how hard that is?" " You are the only one who could do it. He trusts you more than he trusts me." Alana walked to the window. She looked out at the beautiful view of Lake Victoria from Buziga. Do you remember how we met?" she asked. "At Guvnor," Mark said. "Yes. I was a waitress. You came and told me you have a rich brother who is lonely and needs a good girl from a good family. You told me you would pay me 2 million a month just to date him. Just to date him." "And you said yes." "I said yes because my mother was dying in Mulago and I had no money. I needed that 2 million. But then you increased the job. You said, marry him. Make him love you. Make him put you on his company documents. And then we will take everything." " Too perfectly," Alana whispered. " Too perfectly that now I don't know who I am anymore." For a moment, the cold businesswoman disappeared, and a tired 28-year-old girl appeared. She had spent four years pretending. Pretending to love Daniel's touch when she flinched inside. Pretending to laugh at his jokes. Pretending to cry when his mother was sick- sickness that Mark himself had caused by paying a housegirl to put small doses of poison in her food, just enough to make Alana look like a hero. It was all deceit. Every single thing. Mark stood up and walked towards her. "One last job, Alana. One last title. After this Lubowa land, we sell everything. We have already moved 1.2 billion from the company account. This land is the final one. Then we disappear. You go to Dubai, I go to South Africa. Daniel will remain with nothing, just like he left us with nothing." "And what if he finds out?" Alana asked, her voice shaking slightly for the first time. "What if he comes back early?" "He won't. The Mbarara client is fake. I paid him to keep Daniel for 3 days. Daniel is busy negotiating a deal that doesn't exist." Alana looked at Mark. She realized she was trapped. She had started this for money to save her mother, but her mother had died anyway two years ago. Now she was continuing out of greed, and fear. What she didn't know was that Mark was also lying to her. Because Mark had never planned to give her 40%. And what Mark didn't know was that Alana had already started her own separate plan, behind Mark's back. And what both of them didn't know was that Daniel had not gone to Mbarara at all. At 8:15 AM, Daniel's driver, who had been paid more money by someone else, parked the car at a small lodge in Mpigi and told Daniel, " Boss, we need to rest, the car is overheating." Daniel, sitting in the back seat, got a notification on his phone. It was from a private detective he had hired two weeks ago, after he found that second Tecno phone in the flower vase. The message said: Boss, the black harrier is in your compound. Your brother is inside your house. Come now if you want to catch them. Daniel's hands started to shake. The perfect wife. The perfect brother. The perfect life. All of it, a lie. He looked up at the driver. "Turn the car around. Drive back to Buziga. Fast." TO BE CONTINUED...